


We're Not Friends

by amomentoflove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Jealous!Harry, M/M, too many references to Frozen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:49:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3144761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amomentoflove/pseuds/amomentoflove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jealousy: "A sentiment which is born in love and which is produced by the fear that the loved person prefers someone else." - Littré</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Not Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Oops I did a thing... enjoy! 
> 
>  
> 
> If you want to creep on me, here's my [tumblr](http://www.daggerandrose.tumblr.com)!

Cold didn’t even begin to describe how Louis Tomlinson felt right now. No, it was bloody freezing outside. It was beyond him why anyone would even consider going outside on a day like this. But here he was, lacing up the rented ice skates that looked like they’ve been used one too many times with his flatmate, Harry Styles, beside of him. He’s the reason Louis is freezing his unmentionables off. Stupid Harry Styles.

“C’mon Lou! There’s not going to be anyone there! My mate down at the park told me there’s barely anyone skating tonight. We should go skating! It won’t be packed as it usually is!” Harry had proclaimed a car ride ago. “Zaynie’ll come! Won’t you?”

The Bradford lad pokes his head up from where he was lounging on the couch. “Yeah, not happenin’ bro. Li’s gonna come over soon and we’re going to be smart about the weather and stay in tonight.” 

Louis lifts an arm to gesture to him. “See! Zayn’s the smart one and he even says we should stay in.”

But then Harry pulled his famous Kicked Kitten Look; it has gotten Louis to do many things that he didn’t want to do. Three am runs to the store for more of the organic juice that Harry has to have before his morning run. Watching Love Actually for the actual billionth time. Or even going to the pet store so Harry could play with the kittens. No one was immune to the Kicked Kitten Look, especially not Louis.

Louis throws his head back and groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll go get me winter coat.” 

Harry squeals, actually squeals. Stupid Harry Styles. “Don’t forget your gloves and toboggan mate! It’s going to be bloody freezing out there!” Zayn supplies laughing at him.

Louis grumbles all the way to his bedroom.

And that’s how Louis Tomlinson found himself struggling to stay vertical. “Bloody hell this is the worse thing ever.” He mutters to himself. Meanwhile, Harry is gliding ahead of him like the baby deer he is, wobbling every other step but giggling all the while. It’s adorable to say the least. Like Harry’s mate at the shop predicted, there was barely anyone here except for a couple teenagers making out against the wall and of course Harry and Louis.

“Isn’t this fun Lou?” Harry asks from over his shoulder. When he notices that Louis isn’t beside of him, he attempts to stop but wobbles for a couple seconds instead. 

“Alright there?” He asks, cheeks and nose red from the wind and cold. 

“Bloody brilliant, Hazza. Definitely not freezing my bits off or anything.” He says with a stiff smile and crossing his arms over his chest to contain what little body heat he had left. He really should buy a warmer winter coat if Harry plans on dragging him out often during the winter. Harry frowns and this is not what Louis wanted. There’s nothing worse than a frowny Harry. “But other than that, I’m having an ace time!” 

Harry still has that terrible frown on his face and he lifts an arm up pointing to a bench several feet away. “We’ll go sit for awhile. We should take a break anyway, skating is more difficult than it looks on the telly.”

Louis rolls his eyes and smiles at his flatmate. “Mate, you were watching professional ice skating, of course it’s gonna look easy. C’mon, love. Let’s get you over there before you fall over.” He offers a hand to Harry which he takes with a blinding smile. He grips his hand tightly as they begin to slowly move forward. After a few seconds, Louis noticed that Harry was muttering something under his breath and his face had a determined expression. 

“What’s that you’re saying?”

Harry jumps as if he was electrocuted and glances over at the smaller boy. “Oh, erm…” He blushes and glances down at the ice. “I was repeating ‘step and glide’ you know, I so won’t fall over.”

Louis swears that his heart swells with fondness for this ridiculous boy even more. “Well you haven’t fallen over yet, have you? Must be working.” Just like that, Harry is back to his usual sunshine self that has Louis’ knees weakening at the mere sight of it. 

They somehow make it to the bench without falling and Louis flops down on it gratefully. “You can’t be that cold, Lou!” Harry exclaims, sitting down close to Louis, his thigh pressed up against the Doncaster lads.

Louis was shivering in his jacket. He really needed to update his winter wardrobe. He nods his head and leans against Harry’s shoulder. “Yes Haz, I really can.” Harry unbuttons his jacket and opens up one side. 

“C’mere. I’m plenty warm for the both of us.” He offers and who is Louis to refuse cuddling with Harry when he’s currently on his way to being an popsicle. Louis tucks himself into Harry’s side, already feeling the warmth of the curly lad’s body seeping into his.

But Stupid Harry Styles had a different plan. 

“Thanks, love.” He murmurs, feeling perfectly content to stay like this for the rest of the night. 

“Oh! I forgot to take a picture.” Harry exclaims, rummaging around his pockets, coming up with his phone. “Put your feet next to mine.”

Louis sighs and indulges him, knocking their feet together.

Harry snaps a picture, looks at and grins in satisfaction. Louis observes as the younger lad opens Instagram and choses the black and white filter before posting it with the caption “Blades on ice”.

After a couple minutes resting on the bench, Harry taps Louis’ side and states that they should skate more.

“You can’t be serious Haz. The only people left are us and the ones who work here. They’re probably cursing us at the moment for making them stay out in the cold when they could’ve closed up early.” Louis points out.

Harry is silent and Louis knows precisely what he’s doing. “Put your Kicked Kitten Look away Harold.”

“My what?” Harry asks confusion laced in his voice and no doubt on his face too.

“What?”

“What?”

“You said something.”

“No I didn’t Harold. You’re hallucinating because of the cold. Your brain is probably an icicle at the moment.” Louis states, deferring Harry’s attention. He braces himself for the temperature change and leans away from Harry’s body. 

Louis stands up and wobbles back onto the ice. Once he reaches it, he turns around to see Harry’s bewildered expression. “You did say you wanted to skate more right, love?” 

Harry nods blankly and buttons his jacket back up before following Louis back to the rink. He grabs for Louis’ hand when he reaches him. “Best be safe.” Is the only explanation for it and butterflies flutter around in Louis’ stomach when Harry moves their hands so their fingers are entwined.

“Ready?” Harry asks pointing in front of them.

“Uh, sure.” 

They make it around the rink approximately twice before the wind picks up. It obviously effects the taller lad as he practically bends in half to keep the wind from pushing him over.

“Bloody hell this wind.” Harry complains, tightening his hand around Louis and tucking his chin closer to his chest.

“May I remind you, this was your idea Hazza.” Louis teases through chattering teeth. Despite the layers of clothing plus the gloves and beanie he wore, Louis was a popsicle. 

“To the car?”

“Oh fuck yes.” 

Then Harry jumps the side of the rink to land on the sidewalk that wraps around and quickly beings to unlace the shoes. He mutters a slew of curse words when his feet land on the concrete. Louis can only laugh at him from his place leaning against the barrier. 

“Are you coming?” Harry asks, shaking with the skates in one of his hands. 

Louis pulls a face. “And freeze me feet as well?” He pulls himself over the barrier and turns Harry around. “Bend down Haz honestly.”

Louis pushes at Harry’s shoulders until he bends and Louis jumps on his back. 

“Bloody hell Louis.” Harry stumbles at the sudden weight. “Wrap your legs around me. I can’t hold you and my shoes at the same time.”

“Hand ‘em up then.” Louis huffs, holding a hand out. Harry hands the shoes up and curls his hands under Louis’ thighs, hitching him up higher before walking towards the Rental booth.

On multiple occasions, Harry almost slips on the ice that hadn’t been scraped off and curses every time it happens. The man working the booth gives them an exasperated look, judgement and annoyance practically dripping out of his expression. 

Louis grins and sticks his feet out to the man. “We’re here to return our shoes!” 

He can practically feel Harry bite his lip so he doesn’t laugh.“Louis, you have to take your shoes off.” 

“Oh right. Put me down then, Haz.”

The man turns away to retrieve their own shoes, grumbling about rotten uni kids the entire way. Harry and Louis burst out into a fit of giggles once he’s out of sight. “How do you unlace these things anyway?” Louis asks, hopping up on the counter, tugging at the tangled strings. 

Harry wordlessly pushes his hands out of the way and undo the laces before moving onto the other shoe.

“Here ya lads go.” The man says dully, plopping both pairs of shoes beside of Louis.

“Cheers mate.” Louis replies, taking his own and pulling them onto his feet. “Harry, your socks are soaking and you’re going to put your shoes on?” 

Harry stops his movements and looks up at Louis with wide eyes. “You want me to walk to the car with wet socks?”

“Take your socks off. We’ll dry them when we get back to the flat.” Louis instructs with a roll of his eyes. The younger lad nods his head and follows Louis’ orders and slips his shoes on. When he’s done Harry straightens up to see Louis still sitting on the counter.

“Coming?”

Louis raises arms because seriously, he loves it when Harry carries him around.

“And I thought I was the child here.” Harry mutters with a faint grin on his lip. He turns around, bends down and holds his hands out. Louis hops on his back, wrapping his arms around the younger lad’s shoulders.

Once they reach the car, the two boys are a shivering mess. Louis reluctantly climbs off of Harry and into the car, rubbing his hands together. 

“Quick! Turn the heat on!” Louis says, poking at Harry’s shoulder once he’s seated. 

“I’m working on it! Hold onto your trousers!” He starts the car and presses the correct buttons but all that comes out is cold air.

“This is not what I asked for Harold!” Louis belted, leaning over the console to bury his face in Harry’s jacket.

“The car has to heat up. Sorry Lou.” He chuckles, rubbing a hand up and down Louis back, trying to warm him up.

Finally, the heat begins to pump out of the vents and Louis makes a pleased noise, keeping his face on Harry’s arm. “Let’s go home, hmm? I’ll make some tea.” Harry says, pulling out of the parking lot.

Louis nods against his arm and mumbles, “Sounds lovely.” 

For the rest of the car ride back to the flat, Louis rests his head against Harry’s arm. The lull of the car’s movement and the heat pumping out of the vents causes the older lad to drift asleep. By the time Harry pulled in front of the building, Louis was in the perfect stage of almost asleep but not quite yet there. 

Distantly, Louis hears Harry chuckle to himself before getting out of the car. Tendrils of cold sweep in when Louis’ door opens and he curls in on himself, trying to preserve the warmth left from the car’s heating.

“C’mon love.” Harry softly speaks. 

Louis slowly unbuckles himself and blearily opens his eyes to see Harry’s soft expression and arms hovering around his body. “Carry me?” He asks, his voice groggy.

Harry nods and places his hands under Louis’ knees and behind his back, lifting him up to his body. “Shut the door, will you?”

Once Louis does so, he tucks his chin into his chest so that the wind doesn’t hit him and pulls his arms to his chest. Making him as small as possible as to keep warm. The wind, however, whirls around the two lads, snowing beginning to pelt them too, pushing and prodding at them with its icy fingers. 

Even the short walk from the car to the building was enough to chill them once more and cover them in white fluff. It truly was a typical winter evening in London. 

No one was in the main lobby other than the man at the desk who spent his time mainly yelling at the small TV screen about a football game. The usual when it came to flats for uni kids.

Louis drifts in and out of sleep as Harry carries him over to the elevator. Louis, being the best person he is, jabs the number three button with his toe. 

Harry snickers into his hair. “Thanks, Lou.”

Louis only hums out a reply, closing his eyes and sinking into the warm that always seems to radiate from one Harry Styles.

When he drifts back into consciousness, he hears the familiar tone of a certain Irishman.

“Is Louis dying? Did you pierce his heart with ice? He’s whimpering.”

“Niall, are you making a reference to Frozen?”

“Lux made me watch it approximately a dozen times the night I babysat her.”

“No, Niall. Louis is just cold and tired from ice skating.” Harry states matter of factly. A blanket then covers Louis’ shoulders and he hums gratefully.

“The two of you are as bad as Zayn and Liam.”

“Where are they anyway? Zayn said that they were going to stay in tonight.”

“Someone’s staying in someone else. Why else would I be here?”

Louis grumbles at the constant noise and buries his head in what he assumes to be Harry’s stomach from the shaking of the hard muscle. The curly haired lad stills his fingers from where they resided in Louis’ hair and waits until he stops moving before continuing to brush his fingers the comforting motion.

“You can take my room tonight Nialler. I’ll sleep with Lou tonight.” Harry offers quietly and then a couple seconds later. “Don’t give me that look Niall, I’m trying my best.”

“Like I said. As bad as Zayn and Liam.”

With that odd conversation passed, Louis drifts off to sleep once more.

*****

When he wakes up he’s only wearing pants, a curly haired lad is pressed to his chest and an alarm is going off. He untangles scoots over to the bedside table where he sees Harry’s phone shrilling. Louis turns it off and goes to place it back on the table when he sees Harry’s lockscreen. It’s a picture of the two of them, obviously taken by someone else, lying on the couch curled up and fast asleep. Louis recognizes when the picture was taken. Harry had been sick to his stomach for the majority of the day and had refused to sleep without Louis spooning behind him. Louis had cancelled the footie practice to take care of the ill boy. 

Before long, the screen goes dark and Louis can’t help but to press the home button once more to look at the picture again.

It sends flutters through him and he quickly darkens the screen once more and places it back on the bedside table. He doesn’t know where those flutters came from. 

Harry is just his flatmate. His very cuddly and touchy feely flatmate. His flatmate that he willingly goes ice skating with to make sure that said flatmate doesn’t pull his Kicked Kitten Look. The one he cancels footie practice in order to take care of when he was sick.

Oh fuck.

Louis has flutters for Harry.

This curly haired lad who has an actual apron covered in kittens has given Louis flutters. 

Stupid Harry Styles.

Louis hears a groan behind him and feels an arm wrap around his waist. 

“You okay?” Harry grumbles out, sleep heavy in his voice. 

“Yeah… everything’s just peachy Haz.” Louis mutters out, allowing the lad to turn around and scoot back into his chest, bringing Louis’ arm with him. He hears Harry hum out a pleased response and his breathing slowing down as he falls back asleep. 

Louis, on the other hand, stares at the black space in front of him wide awake.

*****

When Louis wakes up for the third time that day, it’s to the sun peaking through the dingy curtains thrown over the windows and a Harry Styles on his back. As in, Louis on his stomach and Harry’s limbs and torso strewn over him. 

Louis attempts to dislodge his arm from where it’s trapped under the pillow. Harry, being the actual kitten he is, takes Louis’ movements as the ‘okay’ to bury his head behind Louis’ neck, kissing the skin exposed there.

Louis freezes then, last night rushing back into his head in a flurry of ice and flutters. He’s in trouble. So so much trouble. After a strategic pillow placement, Louis grabs a clean pair of pants and joggers, and heads across the hall to the bathroom.

He takes the hottest shower known to man, effectively steaming up the small bathroom as he hurriedly washes himself. Not feeling like putting much effort into his look, he towel dries his hair quickly and pulls a beanie over it. He wasn’t plaining on going outside at all today. Not even Harry’s Kicked Kitten Look and the flutters still present in his stomach will make him leave this flat he tells himself. 

Louis pulls on the rest of his clothes and meanders down the hall to the kitchen. He needed a good cuppa or two in him before facing a Harry Styles. He sets the kettle on the stove to boil and turns the radio on. As the water comes to a boil, Louis sends his thanks to whoever came up with tea. He was addicted. He pulls down his usual horrendous yellow mug that had a banana for a handle. Harry made for him and Louis will be damned if it wasn’t his favorite thing in the entire flat (excluding the boy who made it of course).

Louis makes his tea (strong and with a splash of milk, none of that sugar nonsense) and heads over to the breakfast bar. He plops down onto one of the stools and glances over to the scatter pages lying on the bar. The majority of the mess is a mixture of beer bottle tops and tiny coffee creamers used for Zayn’s coffee. 

The breakfast bar had been claimed by Zayn within the first couple hours of stepping into the flat. It was where Zayn went to sketch out drawings, declaring it as the only suitable place for him to efficiently work. Plus, it helped that his coffee maker was only three steps from his work place. Louis liked sitting here in the mornings and glancing over what Zayn had lying around. He knew it was the only time he could sneak in a peek. The artist usually slept in or was at Liam and Niall’s flat. The Bradford lad was an incredible artist, even his sketches and what he called “doodles” were worthy of being framed. Or to Louis they were at least. Louis couldn’t draw for shit.

He was beginning to pull out a wayward paper from underneath Zayn’s sketch pad when a tattooed hand comes down on his stopping his movements. 

Zayn pulls Louis’ hand away from the paper. “You’re not very sneaky Lou.”

Liam giggles from behind the lad and Louis notices that he’s wearing Zayn’s batman shirt. Or it was Liam’s shirt. Either way, the two have morphed one another’s wardrobes. He swears that his Iron Man shirt is in there somewhere too.

“C’mon Zayn! I just wanna look!” 

“Not happening Lou, and get your dirty water away from my papers.”

Liam giggles even more, placing a hand on Zayn’s waist and pulling him back into his chest. Zayn goes willingly and loses his bad boy look in favor of a content puppy look. “Leave ‘em alone Z.”

Louis scoffs and drops down off the stool. (The seat is high off the ground, sue him for being vertically challenged.) “First of all, tea is not dirty water Zayn. Honestly, it’s like you’re not even an Englishman! Secondly, thank you Liam for subduing Mr. Grouchy Pants over here yet again. Honestly Zayn, it’s like he’s the human form of your cup of coffee in the mornings.”

Liam gets a pleased look on his face, his brown eyes softening at the shorter lads words. “Well, it helps when I’ve had his dick up my arse for the majority of the night.” Zayn supplies, smirking when Liam’s face bursts into a bright red color and he rubs the back of his neck, looking up at the ceiling.

“Why, for the love of Ireland, are we talking about bum sex this early?” A groggy Niall asks, trudging into the room.

Louis comes over and puts an arm around him. “See what happens when you don’t get your coffee Z? You start giving baby Niall disturbing mental images. No one wants to know all the dirty bits that you two get into.” He steers Niall over to the couch where he gratefully curls onto the worn in cushions, pulling the blanket down from the back of the furniture. 

“Err…” Liam breaks off. “I’ll make coffee?”

Zayn stifles a laugh and follows his boyfriend into the kitchen while Louis turns on the Food Network, quickly recognizing the show Cupcake Wars. Niall groans, “Ugghh, and now you’re showing me cupcakes. Remind me why I come here.”

“I’ll make breakfast.” A slightly disgruntled Harry mumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he heads towards the kitchen.

“Oh yeah, that’s why.” Niall replies, mainly to himself. Louis smiles over his cuppa and peeks over at Harry. From the couch, he can him stop and slowly turn to him and Niall.

“Zayn and Liam are making out again.” He whisper shouts, wiggling his eyebrows.

Louis’ laugh rings out through the flat. “Oi! Lovebirds! Stop devouring each other so I can devour some of Hazza’s breakfast!” 

A bang and a curse slips from Liam as he backs away from Zayn. Both of them have swollen lips but Zayn has a sly smile on his lips opposite of Liam’s caught puppy look. He takes the smirking lad’s hand and leads him out of the kitchen and to the living room, settling down on the lounge chair. Liam easily goes onto Zayn’s lap, hands entwined and heads close together.

Louis glances away from the affectionate couple in favor of watching the TV bakers creating colorful and delicious looking cupcakes.

Minutes later, Harry calls out for them. “Breakfast!”

Niall rushes off the couch and into the kitchen, wearing the blanket like a cape. The three of them chuckle and follow the Irishman. 

Harry quickly steps out of the way and heads down the hall, leaving the other boys to fill their plates. Seemingly seconds later, he steps out of the flat with only a “Later” over his shoulder.

From the countertop, Niall furrows his eyebrows. “Anyone else think that was odd? He barely said three sentences to us.”

Zayn stares at the door, sipping his coffee, expression matching Niall’s. “Yeah, a bit. Was he fine last night Lou?”

Louis looks over at him and nods his head. “Yeah, I mean, I had gone for a shower when I woke up, Haz was still sleeping. Plus, we went straight to sleep last night.”

“Maybe he just needs to run, to clear his head.” Liam offers, taking a piece of bacon from the plate on the counter.

Nothing else was said about Harry’s odd behavior the rest of the morning. Once breakfast was over, they all chipped in to clean up the dishes that were left lying around the kitchen. Every so often, Louis would steal a glance at the front door, willing Harry to come back and hoping that he was okay. 

No one was willingly to do anything remotely productive that day, so they all silently agreed to have a movie day. Too much popcorn was popped (as usual) and beers were placed in the fridge for later. 

Liam and Louis were in the middle of an argument over which superhero movie to watch first when Harry came back. His nose was awfully red, and his entire body was shaking from the cold. 

“Whoa, you alright there Harry?” Niall exclaimed from his spot on the recliner. Louis stopped his arguing that Spiderman was better than Batman at the Irishman’s words. 

Harry gave a curt nod and fast walked to the bathroom; the four lads exchanged glances. 

“I’ll go check on him.” Louis offers up already halfway down the hall. 

The bathroom door is closed but Louis can’t hear any running water. “Haz?” He knocks softy on the door. “You alright?”

He’s met with silence and he knocks again. “C’mon love. It’s just me.” When he still doesn’t get an answer, he opens the door. He finds Harry hands pressed against the counter, shirt off and staring at the floor.

He looks up when Louis steps into the room. “I just need a moment Lou. I’m fine.” His voice too hard, too distant.

Louis closes the door and sits across from the lad. “Now that’s complete bullshit and we both know it.” Harry looks up at him then, face blank and eyes staring. “What’s wrong Harry? You were fine last night.”

Harry fiddles with his rings before taking them off and setting them to the side. “I’m just in an off mood today.”

And that was that. For the rest of the day, even for the rest of the week, Harry stayed a good distance away from Louis but seemed to be his normal self with the rest of the lads.

Which simultaneously bothered and frustrated Louis to no end.

*****

Now you see, Louis was going through a somewhat dry spell when it came to the romance department, and a three month long drought when it came to sex department. In other words, Louis wanted to song the face off some bloke and get laid… badly. 

It certainly didn’t help that Liam and Zayn were at it any chance they could get. No one wanted to see or hear that. 

However two weeks ago, Louis had purposely accidentally bumped into a tall blonde guy named Jack (?) at a club. They had grinded danced drunkenly and right when Jack started to get too handsy for public view, a wayward club goer dumped all of their beer over Jack.

Louis begrudgingly gave the man his number so they could continue when they were both rid of alcohol on the outside of their systems.

Louis was still waiting for a text from Jack.

In the meantime, classes were beginning and Louis was thrown into hours upon hours in the library with Niall and Liam for research projects and papers. Louis was tense and stressed to say the least.

Louis slammed the tenth useless book shut and dropped his head on top of it groaning. “I’m never going to finish this paper. How is it that our library doesn’t have the books I need. I’m better off looking this stuff up online!”

A hand patted his back and he didn’t have to look up to know that it was Liam.

“There there Tommo. I’ll help you look again. What’s your topic again?”

Liam was Louis new best friend.

“The life of Shakespeare and his influence on the modern day playwright.” Louis repeated once more. It shouldn’t be that hard to find things on Shakespeare of all people. Especially on his plays.

“The only thing these articles are telling me is he was married to Anne Hathaway and that he had a knack for puns. Stupid secondary sources.” Louis mutters, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms.

“Wait… Anne Hathaway? As in the chick who played in The Princess Diaries?” Niall pondered, looking up from his book about music management. 

Liam and Louis both looked over at the blonde boy.

“What? Lux made me watch it.”

“You do an awful lot of movie watching with Lux.” Louis points out.

“Of course, I can’t very well tell a four year old ‘no’ now can I? She gives me the puppy dog eyes every time and I feel like a bad person.” The Irishman explains.

Liam laughs. “No wonder Lou tells me that you let Lux eat all the sweets when you babysit.”

Niall only shrugs as if there’s nothing that can really justify his weakness for letting Lux do what she wants and he goes back to his book.

Liam’s phone buzzes and Louis and Niall groan.

“What?” Liam asks, bewildered at his friends reaction.

“Is it Zayn?”

“Again?” deadpans Niall.

“For the billionth time this hour?” 

“Oh Liam! I can’t believe it’s been two years, three months, one day, and seven hours since we started dating! Love you babe!” Niall mocks, leaning close to Louis, hands clasped.

Suppressing the giggles, Louis grabs Niall hands and uses them to pull the Irishman closer. “Not as much as I love you Z! You are the MJ to my Spiderman!” Then he leans forward to crushingly kiss Niall cheek and pulling at his top. All the while, Niall is cackling. 

“We don’t text each other all the time and that’s not how we act.” Liam states once the two boys have calmed down a bit. When he receives a pointed look from both of his friends he continues. “It’s a text from Thomas actually, there’s a party at Sigma Alpha Epsilon tonight. Wanna come?”

“Isn’t that the rugby frat?” Niall wondered. 

Liam pulled a confused face, his eyebrows scrunching up “I think so? Thomas isn’t actually on the ruby team, or any team for that matter, so it can’t be just a rugby frat.”

“Wait, hold up.” Louis speaks out just as Niall was opening his mouth to reply. “Who’s Thomas? That bloke who works at the smoothie shop?”

“No no, he’s the bloke that poured bubbles into the school’s fountain.” Niall argued. 

Liam rolls his eyes. “No, that was Louis and Zayn.” He explained, his voice monotonous and eyes glaring at a smirking Louis.

The lad looked over to him and started giggling. “What? That was fucking hilarious and you know it.”

“You almost had Zayn expelled for it.”

“Whoa now, almost being the keyword there and I was almost expelled too!”

Niall huffs out a laugh. “Mate, you’re the captain of the footie team. There’s no way that you can ever be expelled. The Chancellor loves the school winning games too much.”

Louis grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “Well, it is what it is.”

Liam rolled his eyes and continued with his work. After a few moments of pencils scratching against paper and pages of books being flipped, Niall looked over at Liam and asked “So who’s Thomas?”

Liam just groaned and mentally wondered how he became friends with these two.

*****

At a quarter to eleven, Louis found himself standing in front of his mirror looking over his outfit. It was dreadful to say the least. His good fuck-me pants were dirty and his good shirt that showed off his arms and his collarbones was missing. 

Zayn probably had it. Cheeky little clothing thief.

Unfortunately, Louis was out of options and almost out of time. He had promised the boys that he wouldn’t be late… again. Sue him, he liked to be presentable when going to parties. Especially since he knew that Harry was going to be there. The lad still acted weird around him. In Louis’ mind, a good outfit can change a persons outlook. Louis really wanted Harry’s attention on him again. Sighing, Louis pulled off his clothes, leaving him in his pants and staring at the jumbled mess that is his closet. He really needed to straighten it up.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his mental argument of justifying wearing joggers to a party. 

“Come in!” He shouted not looking away from his clothes.

Zayn poked his head in. “You almost ready Lou- I guess not.”

He stepped in the room and closed the door, walking over and collapsing on Louis’ bed.

“Do you have that one red shirt?” Louis questioned, turning around to face Zayn. “The one that shows off my collarbones and is just a tad bigger than my other shirts?”

Zayn shrugged his shoulders and leaned back on his hands. “I haven’t seen it.”

Louis groans frustratedly and flops on the bed with his limbs spread out, his right arm laying across the leather jacket wearing lad. He lifts the partially naked boy’s arm off of him and gets up, Louis’ eyes not opening with the motion of the bed. Two seconds later, jeans hits him in the face and his shoots up into a sitting position. “Hey!” He shrills.

Then a shirt gets thrown in his direction and Louis manages to catch it. “There,” Zayn says with a pleased tone and walks out of the room. “Five minutes Lou or we’ll leave without you!”

“That’s just setting me up for failure, mate.” 

Zayn flips him off and closes the door.

Louis groans again, just for the hell of it and looks down at the clothes in his hands. Dark wash skinny jeans and a white and burgundy baseball style t-shirt that he hadn’t know was in his closet. Knowing that he needed to spend more time on his hair than questioning Zayn’s choices, he quickly dresses and heads into the bathroom to fix his hair into a somewhat messy but neat style. It ended up looking fluffy anyway.

He jogs into the living room and over to the door where he puts his shoes. 

“‘Bout time Tommo. We were going to leave ya.” Liam teases. 

The older lad rolls his eyes as he hops on his foot while putting a shoe on. “You’re all talk Payno. A party is nothing without me.”

“Yeah, but have you met Niall?” He shoots back.

Louis huffs out a laugh. “Where is our favorite Irish lad any way?” He ponders, looking around the room only to see Liam, Zayn, and … Harry.

The Cheshire lad was being extremely unfair at the moment making all of Louis’ thoughts slammed to a halt. He was leaning up against the breakfast bar, some ridiculous pea green colored beanie atop his head covering his untamed curls, a slightly baggy white t-shirt which leads down to the most obscene piece of clothing ever to exist in Harry’s wardrobe. 

Leather. Pants.

Louis was fairly sure that he was drooling as he stared at the fabric covering Harry’s legs. They fit his figure perfectly and Louis longed for Harry to turn around. The leather pants would hug Harry’s arse in the right places and show it off. The flutters were coming back in full force the longer he stared. Not to mention the stiffening in his own pants.

“Uh, Louis?” Liam called, causing Harry to look up from his phone to Louis.

The blue-eyed lad jumped as if he was shocked, jerked out of his stare and gazed around the room, his hand wandering up to his hair. There was no way he was going to survive the night with Harry looking like that, no matter the lack of interaction between them. Louis simply would not be able to handle it.

“What? Why are you still sitting on Zayn’s lap? Honestly Liam, there’s a party to get to! Let’s go!” He hurriedly mumbled out, grabbing his phone from the table by the door and leaving the flat, feeling stares on his back the entire time.

He was so fucked.

*****

The party was in full swing by the time the boys arrived. Painstakingly, Louis sat next to Harry on the car ride over, Liam claiming the passenger seat. Louis had scooted over as possible to the door, his hands constantly messing with his hair in an effort to keep his hands and gaze off of Harry. (His thighs is he was being honest.) Once the car was parked, Louis shot off like a rocket to the frat house, ignoring Zayn’s shouts.

Louis is welcomed into the frat house with slaps to his back and congratulations about his latest win on the football field. He spots several of his classmates as well as teammates. The main room is a dingy dark, filled with smoke coming from those who decided to light up a joint in the corner by the patio. Girls dancing with other girls in a giggly fashion, some pretending to be drunk and guys falling for the act. There are couples dotted all over the room snogging, dancing, and drinking most likely questionable concoctions of liquor in bright red coups. It was the perfect place for Louis to distract himself from the mental image of Harry in leather pants. 

Immediately, he heads towards the kitchen, where he hears a familiar cackle. When he walks in, there are girls and guys surrounding the island that is covered in various bottles of drinks. The lad at the center of the crowd hollers when he spots Louis. “Loooouuuiiissssss!” Niall slurs out jovially. Louis grins at his friends enthusiasm and squeezes through the pack of people to reach the obvious drunk Irishman.

“Nialler, you’ve certainly gathered up a right crowd here.” He shouts over the blaring music and chatter, slapping a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and squeezing.

Niall scoffs and nudges Louis with his shoulder. “You know I’m the bestest bartender on this campus!” As he emphasizes the last few words, the crowd cheers and raise their cups in the air.

Louis laughs and shakes his head in amusement. He knew first hand how Niall tended to have a heavy hand when it came to mixing drinks. Considering the night he’s had so far, he nodded his head toward the colorful bottles and replied, “Can I have one of your mixes then?”

“Course, mate. The usual?” Niall asks, already pulling a cup and pouring in some drinks. Without answering, Niall hands him a cup and Louis runs his hand through Niall’s hair messing it up.

“Cheers mate!”

Niall nods in reply as a brunette wanders over to him and rests her arm on his shoulder, leaning heavily on the Irishman. Louis just smirks as he heads out of the kitchen, sipping the drink and wincing as the alcohol burns down his throat. He really needed to be careful when giving Niall free rein over the drinks he took. 

For most of the party, Louis wandered around the frat house, goofing off with fellow teammates, dancing with random people who were far too sweaty for how little sober Louis was, and most importantly, ignoring that hot tingling feeling on the back of his neck as he moved around the room. After perfectly drawing a penis on a passed out teammate, Louis tripped over someone’s feet, almost landing on his arse. A hand to his waist stopped his fall and when he looked up to the person, he knew his night was getting better. It was Jack. The random guy from the bar who never returned Louis’ text. Though Drunk Louis didn’t think about that. He only thought about how good this guy looked wearing a backwards snapback and plain black tee. 

“Fancy seeing you here Louis.” Jack smiled, setting Louis upright but leaving his arm around his waist.

Louis raised his almost empty cup and wrapped his arm around Jack’s shoulders slurring out “Jack! How’d you get here? Do you wanna dance? I’m a bloody good dancer.”

Jack took in Louis’ drunken form and smirk, his gaze lingering on Louis’ crotch. But Drunk Louis didn’t pay any attention to that little detail. He was happy that Jack was here, even though his presence confused the hell out of him.

“One of my best mates is in the frat, told me about the party. I wasn’t going to show up, but… I’m sure glad I did.” 

Jack led the two of them to the designated dance floor and pulled Louis tight against his body, instantly grinding against his arse. Drunk Louis didn’t have a care in the world. He only tipped back the remaining contents of his third… maybe fourth Niall-drink and tossed the cup away. He gave out a loud “Whooo!” and raised his hands in the air and closed his eyes. 

He danced and moved his arse back and forth against the hardness he felt behind him. Jack’s hands firmly wrapped around his hips, and his head knocked against Louis’ effectively moving it to the side. Lips pressed down harshly on his throat, sending shocks of pain and pleasure through Louis’ body. He groaned then, reaching back to bury his fingers in the man’s hair. When Louis opened his eyes, he saw two green eyes glaring at him. No… they were actually glaring at Jack. At his hands on Louis’ hips, his lips on Louis’ neck, his body against Louis’. 

Harry was pissed.

Or was it jealousy? Could that be jealousy that Louis was seeing instead of rage? That didn’t make any sense whatsoever. Harry couldn't be jealous. 

But something about Harry’s glare along with the flutters that raced up and down Louis caused him to stumble out of Jack’s hold.

Louis turned around to say something to him when the man pressed his lips against Louis’. He stepped back once again and raise a hand up at Jack. Jack stood there, confusion on his face until he rolled his eyes and started to shake his head.

“So I’m good enough for a dance and a hickey but not a snog or even a reply to a text?” Jack demanded arms crossed over his t-shirt.

“What the fuck are you talking about? You never texted me back.” Louis argued.

Jack scoffs. “Pretending to be a dumbass doesn’t looks very appealing.”

“I never received a text from-” Then it hit Louis.

Harry.

Stupid Harry Styles must have seen the text and deleted it from Louis’ phone.

What the actual fuck?

It would explain his odd behavior.

Louis turned around, leaving a fuming and bewildered Jack on the dance floor. He marched right where Harry was leaning against a wall and shoved him. Granted, Harry was already leaning against the wall and Drunk Louis shoves are more like a tap.

“You little shit!” Louis shouts.

Harry crosses his arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Lou.”

"Oh you don't? You mean my phone magically deleted texts from only one person. That's quite odd innit?” 

“A text from your terrible dance partner over there? He hasn’t improved since the last time.” Harry bites out.

Louis lifts a finger in his direction. “Aha! He admits it! So you did have something to do with it. Wait… what? Last time?”

Harry scoffs and steps closer to Louis. “Who do you think knocked the beer all of him at the club two weeks ago?”

“That was you?”

Harry looked anywhere but at Louis as he shrugged. “I didn’t like seeing him touching you like that.”

Bewildered, Louis took in Harry’s posture. Arms cross, stiff jaw, not making any eye contact with him but obviously staring someone down. Louis turned his head to see Jack glumly sitting on the couch, nursing a beer, and looking highly uncomfortable as the couple next to him messily snogged.

Looking back at Harry, Louis made the connection, flutters stirring up. “Are you jealous? Of Jack?”

Harry shuffled his feet and shrugged his shoulders again. The flutters spread a warmth throughout Louis as his gaze softened. “You do realize that giving him a death glare isn’t going to do anything, right?”

Harry tore his eyes away from Jack to smirk over at Louis. “It got you away from him didn’t it?”

Louis chuckled raising a finger to point at the green eyed lad. “You’re too cheeky for your own good, Styles.”

Harry stepped closer to Louis, running a hand down his arm to wind around his waist, bringing Louis against him. “Learned it from you to be honest. You’ve sabotage my dates before.”

“If it wasn’t for my superior abilities to annoy rude men, you would have shagged some bloke that looked at you as if you were a prime rib.”

Harry’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Hey! Parker was nice!” 

A snort escaped from Louis mouth as he started to giggle. “The fact that you knew exactly who I was talking about proves that you have bad taste in men.”

“I’m friends with you aren’t I? Does that mean I have bad taste?” Harry points out, bringing both hands to settle on the small of Louis’ back, drawing him closer. In return, Louis places his hands on Harry’s chest, able to feel the muscle underneath the thin t-shirt.

“That just means you’re insane. Only insane people are friends with me.”

Harry pauses, biting his lip before he continues his voice barely above whisper. “And if I didn’t want to be friends with you?”

That question caused Louis’ eyes to widen, the flutters always present to still, and his breath to leave his lungs. Just as he’s about to question Harry, he rushes out to say. “Not like that, never like that, baby.” His hands rubbing up and down Louis’ back.

Now Louis was thrown a huge curve and Drunk Louis (who was quickly becoming Sober Louis) did the only thing he could: ramble. “Baby? Now you’re just talking nonsense Styles. Hey, have you seen Liam and Zayn around here? Or Niall! How could I forget our favorite little Irishman? I wish I was Irish sometime. Gah I’m so drunk.”

Harry sighed softly and edged away from the wall, keeping Louis in his arms. “How much have you had tonight?”

Louis raised a hand up and attempted to count. “Umm, five? Maybe.” 

“Let’s get you home, hmm?” He begins to steer Louis towards the door with an arm still around his waist. The flutters started up again as they made their way outside. In what seemed like the next minute, a cab had pulled up to the curb and Harry was helping Louis in the vehicle. 

He leaned heavily on Harry’s shoulder, the alcohol still buzzing around in his system but the day’s events wearing down on him, making him beyond exhausted. He really needed a glass of water. Soon they arrived in front of their flat complex and Louis was relying on Harry to help him up the stairs. Why did everything start to spin? Louis groaned and Harry rub his back, murmuring “It’s gonna be okay, Lou. We’re almost home.”

The next thing Louis remembers is him being laid on his bed, his shoes, jeans, and shirt being pulled off and a glass of water being placed in hands. He managed to drink about half of the glass before giving up because well, too much effort. He lays down and curls up against his pillows, his eyelids feeling heavy. A hand brushes through his hair and a kiss is placed on the corner of his mouth just as he drifts off.

*****

The next morning was hell. Not as bad as it should have been since he downed about five of Niall’s concoctions, but it was still hell. Louis pulled on a wayward pair of joggers and a hoodie before meandering down the hallway. Someone was already awake and bustling about in the kitchen.

He groans to make his presence known to his flatmate as he sits at the breakfast bar and buries his head in his arms, cursing the day he thought alcohol was a good idea.

A cool hand rubs at the back of his neck. “I’m guessing you don’t feel too good.” 

Louis turns his head slightly to see Harry beside of him.“You would be correct, Harold.”

He smiles sympathetically and hesitantly leans down to kiss Louis’ temple. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

Louis hums gratefully and rolls his head back down so the light can’t reach his eyes. His mind buzzing and the flutters are back, full force. He peeks an eye open and watches as Harry work, pulling out pans and utensils. Just as he starts to crack eggs, memories of last night popped up. 

Harry was jealous of some random bloke that Louis almost slept with… twice. Said jealousy made him pour beer on Jack and delete whatever texts were sent. And whoa… wait. Harry didn’t want to be friends with Louis and gave no further explanation. 

A plate of eggs with a cuppa placed in front of him snapped him our of his thoughts. “What the bloody hell?” He exclaimed causing Harry to jump and look sheepish.

“What, did you not want eggs?”

“No forget the eggs. Why did you tell me last night that you didn’t want to be friends with me?” Louis demanded and watched as Harry pales and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Erm, you remember that?” He winced.

Louis scoffs and slides off the stool to stand in front of Harry, hands on his hips. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you want to be friends with me? We’ve been friends since we ran into each other in the bathroom at the Script concert back in 09. Remember? Oops and Hi? We have it tattooed on our bloody arms.” He gestured to the locations of their matching tattoos.

Harry drops his arm and sternly looks at the smaller lad. “Of course I bloody remember. Jeez, Lou. You’d think I would forget when I met the boy I’m love with.” At those last words Harry blushes and begins to stammer while the flutters in Louis act more like fireworks. “I, umm, I didn’t mean to say that. I mean’t… dammit.”

“You didn’t mean that?” Louis questions his voice low and his heart pounding.

“I um, erm. Yeah I did. Mean it I mean.”

“You love me?”

Harry releases a breath. “Yeah.”

“How long?” Louis wonders, fiddling with his fingers. This could not be happening to him right now. This must be some sort of drunken hallucination.

“I erm can’t exactly pinpoint a certain time but erm I sort of realized it that one day I came home and was pissed and didn’t want to talk to anyone but you. You sort of calmed me down and made me forget why I was upset in the first place.” Harry laughs then, remembering the details of that day. “You took one look at me and instantly knew I was upset and all you said was ‘Harold, I need a cuppa before we watch Cupcake Wars.’”

“You made the worst cuppa ever.” Louis recalls, laughing along. Harry looked up and his gaze softened.

“But yeah, that was when I realized it. ‘ve had the these sort of flutters every time I see you since.”

Louis pauses. “Flutters?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, like butterflies in my stomach. Besides the one already there.”

Louis gave an exasperated sigh. “Are you really talking about your tattoo now?” He shakes his head. “You are the worst Harry.”

He shrugs. “S’true though.”

Considering the fact that Louis was hungover, his head pounding and his stomach was growling up a storm, plus the fact that Harry had just declared that he was in love with him and had flutters, Louis did the most reasonable thing. He closed the space between them by jumping towards Harry making him catch him underneath his thighs. 

“Lou-” Was all Harry was able to get out before Louis cupped his face in both hands and leaned down to press their lips together. Louis sighed at the first gentle touch and could not stop grinning like a mad man and laughing.

“What-”

“The day you forced me to go ice skating with you and I almost froze to death. The next morning your alarm went off and I saw your bloody lockscreen. That’s when I realized I was in love with you. The flutters sort of showed up.” He explained, running his thumbs across Harry’s cheekbones.

The green eyed lad grinned widely before biting his lip and squeezing Louis’ thighs. “Yeah?”

Louis nods. “Just didn’t realize anything until last night. You are your jealousy and your bloody leather pants.” He leans down to suck Harry’s bottom lip, scraping his teeth over it as he released it, making Harry groan.

“I was going to start wearing my shirts unbuttoned next.”

“I would have died, right then and there.”

Harry laughs softly. “I know.”

They spent the next couple hours snogging on the couch while the eggs and tea grew cold. It was Niall who wandered into the living room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, who found them in their pants.

“Whoa mates!” He hollered, covering his eyes. “Please wait until I get me some food before you pull out any unmentionables. I would like to be able to look you in the eye later.”

“Sorry Niall.” Louis apologizes, laughter in his voice as Harry bites at his neck. “Oi, Styles, not so harsh. You’ve already left a hickey I’m going to have a hard time to explain later.”

Niall simply sighs and grabs the nearest box of cereal and the gallon of milk before retreating into the guest room and putting in earphones. He was going to need them.


End file.
